


The Kids Are All Right

by Ending_Daley



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 06:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3757498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ending_Daley/pseuds/Ending_Daley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Effie frets in the halls of District 13</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kids Are All Right

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this quite a while ago (before Christmas, I think) when my internet was down. Nothing special here, just trying something new. And, oh my god there's not a child involved. That's a first.

He watches worry trickle down her spine as she takes occasional, unpatterned steps down the hallway. She turns on her heel after one or two, sometimes three. She stops where she’s standing, or leans against the wall. All the while she bites down on her thumb nail. She doesn’t bite her nails, not usually. He can see the inner turmoil she’s fighting; gnaw it off or leave it be. She jumps between the two.

There are minutes where she stops, pauses, opens her mouth and then closes it. He wants to know what she’s thinking, but considering her own hesitation he is negligent to force anything out of her.

Her heels click on the concrete floor as she steps, one, two, stops, three, four, five, six. He wonders if it is a dance as he watches the way the fingers on her spare hand jitter in the air as she pauses, as she steps, as she thinks. Her fingers used to dance for all manner of reasons, predominately stress and confrontation.

He hopes she isn’t planning to confront Coin. It was the last thing they needed.

Haymitch had come out to watch her, already noting the distress but hoping she would cool herself down before she sparked out of control. She is flighty in the concrete city. He perched himself against a wall, arms crossed over his chest.

She walks right up to him, eventually, eyes on the ground as she chews on her nail and her fingers twitch. She turns away after a second. One step, two steps, three steps. He leans forward, hands breaking apart from his stance to loop around her wrist. He pulls on her hand, gently, but not so much. She collides with his chest. He hears her faint ompfh.

‘Effie,’ he starts, Seam grey eyes seeking out her marvellous blue. He had to give her credit for her eyes. They were almost Merchant in their vibrancy; a sign of wealth, not a history of the poor breeding with the poor. Her eye lashes flutter as she hesitates to hold his gaze, unsteady, unfocused. ‘Your unconventional pacing is driving me mad, what the hell is the matter with you?’

She steps away from him, his hand no longer looped around her wrist, two large fingers holding her down. She takes the opportunity to mirror his stance. She crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes still fleeting in their gaze.

He was right to assume anxiety and stress. Katniss. She was worrying about Katniss and the Star Squad. Haymitch reassures her briefly, uncertain himself.

Effie launches into dialogue. She’s worried about her team. She rambles, fear for life after the war, what is becoming of Katniss and Peeta, Panem itself. He is not surprised by her worry over the country, The Capitol. Here they are fighting for Freedom and Effie is fearful of civilisation changing too much. Fish out of water. He shakes his head. Why was she on his list, again?

He stops listening but she continues to talk, frantically, hands flying all over the place as she stresses The Capitol is no place for Katniss to be right now. He’s watching her, realising how much of a mother hen she is. He already knew she nurtured their tributes, each year she got a little more enthusiastic, desperate to love a winner out of them. Her protective attitude only developed tenfold with Katniss and Peeta.

He wonders how much of an aloof father figure he has made to those kids. How dysfunctional their team must seem, but how beautifully it runs together. There is no Katniss without Peeta, or Peeta without Katniss. It works for them too, there is no Haymitch without Effie, there is no Effie without her team. He couldn’t count himself singularly responsible for who she was. She was something with her team, without it, she wasn’t quite the same.

Without her team Effie Trinket was jittery hands and uneven steps. Paranoia wrapped around her head, worry sat with heavy chains locked in her gut.

He watches her tremble in front of him, uncontrollable shakes as her eyes dart around the hallway and her hands continue to fly. Without her team she is a skittish mess of nothing in this war wracked world.

‘Effie,’ he starts again, trying to pry her mind from her nonsense prattling. His words are lost on her. He feels frustration ebb at his fingertips, he clenches them into his palm, trying to stop the aggression. She is infuriatingly overprotective. He is exactly the same.

With action and not much thought he grabs her wrist again, pulling her back to his chest. He waits. One breath. Two. He still doesn’t think much of what he is doing, only hopes that it will shut her up. He kisses her. His hand let go of her wrist so he could cup her face, hold her, just for a second.

She froze against his mouth, stunned motionless. She counts the seconds in her head, reaching three before she kisses him back. It’s gentle, sweet, not passionate and controlling. It’s over before she can react completely.

‘The kids are all right,’ he says, hands still cupping her face. Effie stares, her eyelashes droop slightly, her eyes dazed. ‘Everything is going to be all right, just, just stop being you about it all.’ He has to force the words out. He hopes that the war will end comfortably, they, the people of Panem announced as Victors. It does not stop the unsteady feeling in his gut about Katniss in The Capitol. He chalks the feeling to a protective instinct by the time Effie reaches on her tip toes to kiss him back. She wraps her arms around his neck. Her whole body leans against his chest. She felt his hands move from her cheeks to her waist as Haymitch holds her steady and she deepens their embrace.

Effie pulls back. Her hands fly out over her clothes, ghosting against the fabric until her fingers catch on the hem of her shirt. She fidgets with it, her fingers feeling out the stitch as she stares at the floor. She almost has to force the air into her lungs as she struggles to regain her breathing.

Her words break on her tongue as she opens her mouth to speak. He stares, humour cracks across his face. She indicates behind her, finger points at the empty hall. Haymitch only nods. He understands. She turns again, slight blush on her cheeks as she leaves his personal space and disappears into the labyrinth of District 13.


End file.
